Mauerfall
by AliFyre
Summary: When the wall falls, will Prussia be able to face Germany, having lost all that he once considered awesome about himself? For the 25 year anniversary of the Mauerfall.


"As far as I know, effective immediately."

The voice in the radio cut through the air, carrying the voice of East Berlin's party boss letting his people know that transit across the wall would be possible immediately.

_Immediately. _

Gilbert stared at the radio, unsure if he could believe his ears. _Immediately. _The wall was coming down, the people could cross. _Effective immediately. _

He could see his brother _immediately. _

He wanted to stand, to run, to shout, to sprint headlong to that damned wall and be the first one to put a dent in it.

He wanted to be the first one over it. To see his brother again.

And yet, he found himself frozen in place. His body was rigid with anticipation, burning from within with excitement and frozen on the outside from fear. He had seen glimpses over the wall, heard the rumors, seen the pictures. West Germany had flourished since the war had ended, since it had been separated from the East. West Germany was a beautiful thing. And he, the East, was a shell of his former self.

He didn't need to look in the mirror to know he was no longer the awe-inspiring personification of awesome that he had once been. The war had taken its toll, and the dissolution, and then of course the decades behind the curtain with _him, _the scarf-clad communist bastard. His separation from West had worn him ragged, and he knew it.

And part of him feared that West, in all his splendor and strength, would not want his weak, ugly, Eastern half back.

And so Prussia stayed seated in his dismal apartment that overlooked the wall, not even moving to look out over the commotion of people moving to cross it. He was better off here, where at least his heart was safe.

Nevermind that his heart was only a half, and that it was only truly safe as a whole. Nevermind that the scar that had cut his chest in half was fading from his skin, nevermind that somewhere to the west, another half a heart was also beginning to heal.

~oOo~

"Effective immediately."

Germany stared at the television, eyes wide with shock. The borders were open, the walls were coming down, his people, his lands could be one again!

His brother, his lover, could be his again.

Germany ached with yearning as he considered the prospect. Gilbert, running towards him, Gilbert, warm and safe in his arms, their hearts reuniting to their customary double-beat, two halves of a perfect whole.

And it could happen _immediately _

But Germany knew Prussia was too proud for that. He knew that information had been more available to East Germans lately, that Prussia undoubtedly knew how well he had been doing. Just as well as Germany knew how hard it had been for the East. And Germany knew, because _oh _if he didn't know his brother, that Prussia would not want to show his face just yet. There would be no East Germany waiting at the wall as the borders open to meet his other half, no picture perfect reunion before the symbol of their division, now rendered so thoroughly impotent.

What there would be, however, suited Germany just fine. He never wanted Prussia to give up his pride, only his solitude, his separation from him. Germany could easily swallow his own ego to prove to Prussia that even after all this time, after the betrayal of letting his brother get dissolved and renamed and then sent behind the wall, he still loved him. The he still needed him, his older brother, the completion of his heart.

Germany stood and went for his coat, content in the feeling of impending satisfaction in his chest. And when he found himself outside, he could not help but smile at the feeling of distant completion that drew him East, guiding his footsteps forward to reunification. So caught up he was in his journey, that he barely noticed the fading of the scar across Berlin, their heart, as he grew ever nearer.

~oOo~

Prussia felt him coming before he heard the knock at his door. The ache of incompletion, the knowledge that he was so close, yet so far from wholeness, had weighed on his chest since the broadcast had ended. Since Germany had decided to come for him.

He had debated running away. It was certainly a tempting idea, to flee to where West would never see him, to hide himself away from the certain rejection that reunion would bring. Reunion, because it would brief — not a reunification, as many had claimed. After all, why would West, gorgeous, perfect West, want to reunify with a brother who could not longer bring himself to call himself awesome?

However, he had not even been strong enough to do that. He had cursed himself when he'd realized it, that he no longer bore the strength even to spare himself pain and rejection. That he was now so weak that all he could do was wait to be forever cleaved in two.

So when the knock came on the door, he did not answer.

He heard a heavy sigh, and a second, more tentative knock. Prussia winced. Damn West, even now not sure of himself around his big brother. Even though had outgrown him, even though he had outdone him in every sense, he still shied up when it concerned his brother. Even now, when he had all the power in the world, and Prussia lacking even a proper nation to call his own.

Prussia broke down just then, the ice of fear melting away and freeing his limbs as the combined ache of want and warmth of affection (because who wouldn't love such shyness in such a strong man?) bloomed within him. Without even meaning to he found himself getting to his feet and moving to answer the door, tentatively as well, because there was still a part of himself that feared that Germany would still be disgusted with him, shyness be damned.

The door cracked slightly, and he peered around it to glimpse his brother, beautiful as always, looking back at him with wide blue eyes. Prussia braced himself, waiting for that lovely face to distort with disgust as West looked at him, waiting for the rejection that would surely follow.

But the disgust never came, and Prussia pulled the door back even further so he could get a better view of the expression on West Germany's face. There were not words to describe the look on his face, and damn did Prussia try to find them — incredulity, joy, shock, awe, even love maybe? What mattered was not what he did find in West's face then, but what he didn't.

There was no hatred in those blue eyes, and in a moment Prussia was able to place the overwhelming feeling that colored his brother's visage oh-so-vividly.

_Relief. _

"_Brother," _Germany choked, his eyes filling with tears and a smile gracing his lips. They moved together, as they should, into each other's arms, hands everywhere as each half became reacquainted with it's counterpart. Mouths, hot with joy and gratitude, found each other, and their hearts melded into the triumphant double-beat they had always been meant to be.

And in the arms of his gorgeous baby brother, wrapped up in warmth and joy, Prussia had never felt more beautiful.

~oOo~

Happy Mauerfall everyone!


End file.
